Baby Mine
by incinera
Summary: Dean and his child are in danger.Sam can save them...if he could just figure out where the hell they are.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Unfortunately.

Dean Winchester was not a happy camper. As he continued trying to navigate the streets of Palo Alto, yet another group of college students seemed to materialize in front of him. Dean cursed and stomped on the brakes with a bit more force than necessary. As the Impala slammed to a stop, Dean heard a soft whimper from the car seat behind him.

_Don't wake up, please don't wake up_. Dean unconsciously held his breath, eyes focused on the sleeping toddler in the backseat. Ignoring the now-pissed off students yelling at him, he gunned the engine again. _Time to get the hell out of Dodge_.

Sam was dreaming. That was the only plausible reason for him to be here, in this room. The room was painted some light colour, indistinguishable in the night's gloom, and filled with dark wooden baby furniture. The sole inhabitant of the nursery (besides him) was a curly-haired toddler currently standing in her crib and whimpering pitifully.

The little girl ignored Sam's sudden appearance and continued to fuss, clearly unhappy with the present situation. As her wails began to increase in volume, Sam moved to try and comfort her. But as he reached out to her, he was stunned to find his hand pass through the tiny shoulder.

Sam barely had time to process this new development before an exasperated, and oddly familiar, male voice called from outside. "Okay, okay, Jesus, I hear you."

Sam turned to the door and opened his mouth in shock as the man entered and the child reached for him sobbing. "Dadadadadada…"

"Shh, baby, Daddy's here…"

"_Dean?_"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Still don't own them.**

**Then…**

_Sam turned to the door and opened his mouth in shock as the man entered and the child reached for him sobbing. "Dadadadadada…"_

"_Shh, baby, Daddy's here…"_

"_Dean?"_

**Now…**

"_Dean?_"

Somehow Sam wasn't surprised when Dean didn't respond. It seemed that no matter what was happening, he was only a bystander. He watched silently, chewing on his lip, as Dean scooped the little girl up into his arms. Dean looked as though he'd just rolled out of bed, clad in a white t-shirt and grey pajama pants. Fatigue was clear on his face as he cuddled the girl.

"Hey Katie-kins, whatsa matter? You can't be hungry or need a diaper change, I just put you down." Katie's wails didn't abate as Dean rocked. "C'mon baby, gimme a clue. Did you have a bad dream?"

"I'm afraid it isn't a dream Dean-o."

At the sound of the mocking voice, Sam and Dean both whirled towards it. Standing there, smiling mirthlessly, was a middle-aged man with yellow eyes. Sam's breath caught in his chest. _The demon that killed mom…_

"Azazel…" Dean hissed, holding his child close. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"My, my, Dean-o. What kind of example are you setting for little Katie?"

"I'm teaching her how to treat scum like you."

The demon (_Azazel?_) smirked. "Not like it'll leave an effect. I'm here to take her." Without warning the demon had moved, ripping Katie out of Dean's arms. The toddler screamed and Dean lunged for her, only to thrown across the room and pinned to the wall by an unseen force.

As Sam watched in shock, and mounting horror, Dean slid up the wall and onto the ceiling. The demon made a slashing gesture with its free hand, and a gash opened across Dean's belly.

Azazel smiled as blood dripped downwards, landing on both himself and the wailing little girl. "My first male victim, and Katie's baptism in blood. My, isn't today exciting." He smirked and Dean screamed as flames consumed him.

"DEAN!"

Sam jolted awake with a cry, startling Jessica who'd been asleep at his side. For a shuddering moment, Sam stared around the room as Jessica sat up groggily. "Sam? Are you okay?"

Not yet trusting himself to talk, Sam got out of bed and headed to the kitchen where the cellphones were charging. He frantically dialed Dean's cellphone number, the memory of Dean's fiery body blazing in his mind's eye.

"Pick up Dean, pick up, pick up, _pick up_"

"This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency, leave a message. If you are calling about 11-2-83, page me with your coordinates."

"Sam? Sam, what's wrong?"


End file.
